Hamersley, who by this time had crept out of the grotto, stood upon the ledge listening.
He could hear his comrade as he scrambled up; the rasping of his feet against the rocks, and his stentorian breathing.
At length Walt appeared to have reached the top, when Hamersley heard words that sent a thrill of horror throughout his whole frame.
“Oh!” cried the guide, in his surprise, forgetting to subdue the tone of his voice, “they’ve built us up! Thar’s a stone over the mouth o’ the hole—shettin’ it like a pot lid. A stone—a rock that no mortal ked move. Frank Hamersley, it’s all over wi’ us; we’re buried alive!”
Chapter Fourteen.
A Savage Saturnal.
Only for a short while had Wilder’s trick held the pursuers in check. Habituated to such wiles, the Indians, at first suspecting it to be one, soon became certain. For, as they scattered to each side of the cleft, the steel tube no longer kept turning towards them, while the coonskin cap remained equally without motion.
At length, becoming convinced, and urged on by the Red Cross chief and the bearded savage by his side, they dashed boldly up, and, dismounting, entered the chine over the body of the butchered horse.